


Who Put the Sword in the Stone?

by rorywritesstuff



Category: Arthurian Mythology, Arthurian Mythology & Related Fandoms, The Sword in the Stone (1963)
Genre: Comedy, Other, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 22:36:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16049972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rorywritesstuff/pseuds/rorywritesstuff
Summary: An answer to an age old question.





	Who Put the Sword in the Stone?

(A park, somewhere which would now be called England. Renwick and Jarbid stand frozen. Renwick stands with his arms in the air. Jarbid stands nearby, looking amazed. In between them, clearly viewable by the audience, is a sword stuck in a stone. Suddenly, Renwick and Jarbid burst into motion.)  
JARBID:  
Odds my bodkins.  
RENWICK:  
I did it. I told you I could do it. Didn't I tell you?  
JARBID:  
You stuck it right through. Didn't shatter or nothing. You got it all in there. And I thought that crack was too tight.   
RENWICK:  
That's what she said.   
JARBID:  
Who?  
RENWICK:  
Sally, who works in the pub. I told her I was gonna do it. She says a lot of things, gets quoted a lot out of context.  
JARBID:  
So, pull it out again.  
RENWICK:  
Hey, Sally also said that.   
JARBID:  
I'm serious, I need Sir John's sword back.   
RENWICK:  
Right.  
(He pulls at the sword. It won't budge.)  
Uh oh.  
JARBID:  
'Uh oh?' What's 'uh oh?'  
RENWICK:  
It won't come out.   
JARBID:  
Don't be daft.  
RENWICK:  
It won't, it's caught on something.   
JARBID:  
Oh, give over.  
(Jarbid tries to pull the sword. It will not move. He tries again.)  
Grab my arms.  
RENWICK:  
What?  
JARBID:  
Pull with me, jackass.  
(They both pull on the sword. Nothing happens.)  
JARBID:  
Shit! Shit!  
RENWICK:  
Get him another one?  
JARBID:  
Do you know how much swords cost?  
RENWICK:  
How much?  
JARBID:  
I don't know, I've never been able to buy one BECAUSE I'M POOR! Fuck!  
RENWICK:  
Maybe he won't mind?  
JARBID:  
You're right, next time he's out slaying dragons I'll just hand him a sharp stick. Just as good.   
RENWICK:  
Alright, alright. We need to think.   
JARBID:  
Oh now, he wants to think.   
RENWICK:  
Hey, you're the one who let me have the sword.  
JARBID:  
You said you knew what you were doing. You said your hole could handle it.  
RENWICK:  
My hole could handle it! It got in there alright. It got in there real good.  
JARBID:  
It's the getting it out at the right time bit that's important, otherwise you end up in trouble!  
(Sally wanders by.)  
SALLY:  
Hey, all of that is what I said.  
RENWICK:  
Please, Sally, we're having a discussion.   
SALLY:  
Alright. Penetration.  
(She leaves.)  
RENWICK:  
How long til this knight of yours wakes up?  
JARBID:  
I don't know, a few hours?  
RENWICK:  
Does he know you're here?  
JARBID:  
No.  
RENWICK:  
So, you could, in theory, quit your job?  
JARBID:  
Quit my job? What is that? That's not a widely introduced concept yet, jobs are hereditary. My dad was a servants ergo I'm a servant.  
RENWICK:  
Servants know the word 'ergo?'  
JARBID:  
Servants don't steal their master's property and keep their heads!  
RENWICK:  
So, you're not a servant anymore. Problem solved. He doesn't know you're here, and I'll doubt he'll ever figure it out.   
JARBID:  
How am I gonna get money?  
RENWICK:  
Who's the king at the moment?  
JARBID:  
What?  
RENWICK:  
Is it still what's-his-face? The Tory?  
JARBID:  
Uther.  
RENWICK:  
Yeah.  
JARBID:  
No, he died.  
RENWICK:  
So, who's-  
JARBID:  
There is no king! There's a huge political crisis on! Read a damn book!  
RENWICK:  
I'm illiterate! And some of us find politics depressing. I don't want to be thinking about that all day.  
JARBID:  
Why does it matter who's king?  
(A stranger walks by.)  
RENWICK:  
Hey! You!  
STRANGER:  
Me?  
RENWICK:  
Sure. You'll do. This the Tory's sword.   
(Jarbid elbows him.)  
The king's sword.  
STRANGER:  
Oh yeah?  
RENWICK:  
Yeah. And he died a virgin, or childless, whatever. Point is, whoever pulls his sword from this rock becomes king.  
STRANGER:  
Says who?  
(Pause.)  
JARBID:  
A prophecy.  
STRANGER:  
Whose prophecy?  
JARBID:  
Sally's.   
STRANGER:  
She is good at predicting what people will say. The other week my wife had this huge piece of wood and also a skinned beaver and I said-  
RENWICK:  
Yeah, yeah, yeah. You wanna be king? Five pnnies a go.  
STRANGER:  
Five pennies?!  
JARBID:  
Or three goes for twelve.   
STRANGER:  
Now that's a bargain!  
(He pays them and starts trying to pull the sword ut.)  
RENWICK:  
Whoa!  
JARBID:  
This is brilliant. We just made five pennies for nothing!  
RENWICK:  
We could run this scam for the rest of our lives and be rich!  
JARBID:  
But what if someone unsuited pulls the sword out and becomes ruler of the land?  
RENWICK:  
Ah, they'll get beheaded. We wouldn't let unqualified buffoons run the country, not for more than five years anyway. Just letting them continue to make decisions as they tear the land apart and make bad decision after bad decision, plunging us all further and further into despair and bankrauptcy. Ha! That would mean the political system was totally fucked. And that can't be.   
JARBID:  
I thought you weren't political.   
RENWICK:  
And I thought the majority of British people weren't idiots. Oh well.


End file.
